Water's Depth
by Star Vortex
Summary: Follows Abraham's journey after his abandonment of the BPRD as he struggles to cope with Nuala's death. T for safety, might become M in the far future.


This story is based in the movie-verse, but I will be pulling some things from the comicverse. For example, Abe is a very good marksman, is a successful martial artist, and can survive out of water for very long periods of time though it may become extremely uncomfortable. In HB2, Red _did_ get away from the window and as such the BPRD avoided detections and never came out to the world. Other than that, most things are pretty simple. This is, in essence, an AbexNuala story, and there will be no AbexOC pairings, at least not romantic ones. But you're not here to read author notes. On to the story.

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><p>Door was usually a passive giant. Very few things could interest him, but this time was different. He watched. Didn't just look, but <em>watched<em>. He supposed it was natural, though. It had been more than five hundred years since Door had been awoken, and boredom had just about killed him. He couldn't just let anyone into Bethmoora, after all, and the shrill whistle had sounded like angelic trumpets to his ears.

"Manning!" It was bright red and very big for a human, which led Door to assume that it was not human. Young Man, that was his name.

Two, no three others emerged after him. There was who the goblin called Nice Little Girl, a an of leather and glass who did not have a name, and a man who was also a fish that did not have a name either.

"Here to help, as always," Young man said, approaching Manning.

"Wait, what? What is this?"

Young Man gave Manning his belt.

"I quit."

The other three filed into a line.

"Y-you quit?" Manning asked, face the definition of disbelief.

"Sure looks that way, doesn't it?" Nice Little Girl said, handing Manning her belt as well.

"You can't all just quit!" Manning exclaimed.

The fish who was also a man took Manning's face in a rather frightening grip. "Watch us."

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><p>Abraham couldn't think. He felt distant, like he wasn't in his own body. His steps had slowed, seeming almost timid as they searched for something, any kind of path to follow. His whole life had been the BPRD. It was the only home, only family he knew, but now it was no longer his. Going back was unthinkable after what had happened, and the place held too many memories. Memories that would be too painful. Memories of—<p>

His chest ached, and it hurt to breathe. He watched the retreating backs of Red and Liz, numbly turning to follow. His stride was sickly, lost, and he vaguely felt himself weaving unsteadily. He was dizzy.

He still walked, though. Walked and watched. Red was excited about something. Without thinking, Abraham raised his hands and spread his fingers to feel what was happening. He felt a new pain, fresh and bright, dash his chest when he felt them. They were joyful. Joyful of children to come. They weren't thinking about him at all.

Abraham stopped and looked behind him. The few agents that had come were looking towards Manning, who was having an argument with Johan that Johan appeared to we winning. They weren't thinking about him, either.

He turned to the right very suddenly. He was a fool to follow Red and Liz. They were too interested in each other to be concerned about him. The BPRD had their argument to watch like some sports game, their missions to play with. He had no place in either world.

The revelation hit him like a fist of iron, making him stumble. He had not place anywhere. And for the first time, he understood the full gravity of what that meant. "Unique," Broom had often said, "is what you are, Abraham." Unique. It was a coat, a coverword that sounded better. Unique. He wasn't unique. What he really was, after everything was said and done, was alone.

But for the briefest time, he hadn't been. She… she had been like him. The same. She understood things he had hidden for his whole life, shared the same gifts and shared the same burdens. Her elegant strength had struck him to the core since they had first touched. She was as pure and gently as the falling snow, that somehow managed to remain when Hell itself had risen around her. Not alone. He hadn't been alone. Not until—

He choked and fell to one knee, his vision swimming dangerously. He leaned to the side and vomited, and his throat was left bitter and raw with a bad taste lingering. He struggled to regain his breath as he returned to his feet and staggered onward.

He looked ahead to see where he was going, not particularly surprised to see that he was coming to a cliff. The ocean roar was hypnotic and constant, rushing through him like his own heartbeat. He came to the lip of the drop, looking out to sea. Blessed water. His true home. The sea stretched for eternity, and below him was a massive drop that he estimated to be around a hundred and fifty feet.

He knelt and unzipped the top part of his uniform, took off his boots and emptied his pockets. He considered leaving them, but decided against it. he wanted to disappear. He would carry them with him for a while, then dispose of them when the time was right.

He looked over his shoulder one more time. Red and Liz were in each others' arms, and through the distance was great he could feel their joy. They did not remember him. He looked to the agents. They were checking the area, and after a quick read he found that they were just trying to conceal themselves from an angry Manning. They did not remember him. He was in none of their thought and concerns. He was completely, totally, and utterly forgotten. Completely, totally, and utterly alone.

He had meant to dive, but his strength was elsewhere. His muscles were hollow.

The air rushed past him, but he was beyond true feeling. He would swim, swim anywhere, swim wherever the ocean took him. He just had to leave, leave this place where he did not belong. No stopping, not for food, rest, for anything.

The water was frigid when he hit it, and he rolled painfully onto his stomach. Without feeling, he started forward. His grace was gone, his movements mechanical. No stopping. No waiting.

He was alone. Just as he had been before… before her. And just as he would now always be… alone forever.


End file.
